


The terrible, you.

by bunnybunz



Category: Weak Hero, Weak Hero (Webcomic), Weak Hero (Webtoon)
Genre: F/M, Fighting, Tasty Bad Boy, you know you want it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24750664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnybunz/pseuds/bunnybunz
Summary: After Wolf Keum unwittingly rescues you from seedy men in the dead of night, he can't shake you from his side. After a while, he's not sure if he wants to.
Relationships: Seongji Geum/Reader, Wolf Keum/Reader
Comments: 37
Kudos: 155





	1. The terrible, you.

To say Wolf Keum was a “scary person” was an incredibly naïve understatement.

Wolf Keum was the second most powerful member of the Union under Donald, second only to Daehyeon High School’s Jake Ji.  
The aftermath of his fights was the sole testament of his strength anyone needed, often only leaving behind a mangled challenger with fractured bones and a shattered ego.  
  
In addition to being one of the strongest contenders of the Union, Wolf also dominated the entire population of Ganghak High School with a powerful fist and a lunatic glint in his eye.  
The select few who were not fearful of him could only yearn to be him, or long to take his place. As temperamental and unpredictable as he was, that was a dream that would not soon manifest. He had a fearsome presence, and an even more horrifying reputation.  
  
Those who had doubted the tale of three seconds were beat so bloody that the school hallways needed a new paint job. No student at Ganghak High who valued their lives dared to pick up their heads if they heard the telltale clicking of his shoes, even if another student was crying out for help.

Worst of all, was perhaps Wolf’s complete and utter indifference to the bloodshed he caused. He never seemed remorseful when stepping over the body of his newly bloodied victims, nor when he wiped the spit and blood off his knuckles onto a bystander’s uniform, a grim smile twisted on his face like a dare to even tremble the wrong way.

Tonight, as you stand in a dark and dingy alley between three crumpled bodies and Wolf Keum of your high school, you are reminded of this.  
  
You kneel beside the bodies and take in the crimson blood seeping into the concrete underfoot, brows furrowed and mouth agape.

“Oh my gosh Wolfy, they’re sooooo totally fucking dead!”  
You were also unbelievably drunk.

You didn’t see him fix you with a blank stare that would ordinarily make anyone piss their pants.

A dull, pounding pain in your head makes you rub slowly at your temples, a shitty attempt to dispel whatever alcohol was currently tearing through your system.  
You had agreed to join your friends at a mixer after your classes, and because of the underwhelming selection of gentlemen, you decided to drown your night in margaritas and champagne instead.

When your friends sauntered off with the men of their choice, you took it upon yourself to walk home drunk and alone in the wee hours of the night- which only seemed like a bad idea when you found yourself in an uncomfortably moist and moldy alleyway.

Of course, from the cape of the night also came forth three cowardly scavengers that touted violence to get their way, even if it meant cornering a scantily dressed, drunk high school girl in the seedy underbelly of a slumbering city.

And though you never considered yourself to be a lucky person, it so happened that tonight, the stars aligned to bring that savage Wolf Keum to you; dark, cramped alley and all.

Your alcohol fogged mind could never understand it- why your heart thrummed so loudly, enchanted, when that same savage, Wolf Keum, connected a raging fist with the first man who dared lay his hands on you. Then, with the other two who attempted to defend their friend writhing on the dirty floor.

You would never understand, drunk on cheap drinks and wine, that Wolf Keum had only come through the alley to take a shortcut on his way home.

You would never understand, under that luscious and full moon hanging overhead, that Wolf Keum was already itching for a fight, and had started counting to three before he had even seen your small, quivering form against the shadows of the buildings.

But it didn't matter.

Nonetheless, in the combined stupor of your drunk mind and disappointment in the mixer, you were swooned. From the moment Wolf Keum reared back his fist to deliver a brutal, skull-rattling punch, your breath faltered, your stomach twisted tightly- and you were done for.  
  
The moonlight seemed to exist just to illuminate him, unruly purple hair flying wildly as he landed one hit after another.  
His eyes radiated in the dark with an eerie calm, unflinching even when blood splattered across his nose bridge and onto his cheeks.

You watched the scene unfold hazily, picking yourself up and wondering if you should stop him.

But he made quick work of them, dropping them into the same heaving, miserable pile before you could even slur out the garbled “Maybe you shouldn’t” sitting in your throat.

And here you were now, crouched over their bodies in wild, alcohol induced fascination.

You watched one of the men open his mouth to spit at you, but his jaw dropped open loosely, clicking and crackling.

“Duuuude, I think you broke his jaw,” You laughed, reaching out to bounce the poor man’s bloody chin. “It’s all loose and funny.”

Wolf busied himself with slipping his glasses back on and pulling his uniform back into place.

You feel a twinge of hurt when he doesn't respond, and just when you're wondering if he'll ignore everything you say, Wolf speaks the first time that night. His voice low and clear in the crisp night air, and raises goosebumps on your exposed arms.

“I don’t break jaws.” He answered, “That stops them from talking.”

He stepped over their bodies, and you wondered if he stepped on their fingers on purpose. You missed the dry smile on his face as their knuckles popped.

“Are you leaving?” You ask.

He doesn’t respond, and when you look up, he’s already gone.


	2. The impulsive, I.

Wolf Keum did not consider himself a man of mild temper or endless patience. Even before his enrollment in Ganghak High School, his name was written in the books beside a blaring caution sign, touting him the district's most feral and impulsive brawler.

When he set foot into school as the new student who had beat the shit out of the fucker, Forrest Lee, he was unsurprised to find that a target was slapped onto his back by not only Hyeongshin students, but Ganghak seniors as well.  
It amused Wolf that seniors would find him to be a threat, given they had been cocky enough to publicly announce a week before his arrival that they would beat his ass bloody.

Though it was his ferocity and adrenaline that made him the hottest topic of Yeongduengpo, he was by no means dull.

Wolf didn’t often pride himself on wit or dexterity, but he had more than a few tricks up his sleeve to get him out of a pinch.  
This is why, on his first day at Ganghak, he expected there to be no less than seven people ready to jump him in front of his class. This is also why, before the end of the first bell, he had managed to disband the entirety of the menagerie with nothing but a single punch.

The psychology of hierarchy was a heap of bullshit, but it was still incredibly effective for someone who wanted to inflict fear.  
Pinpointing the overzealous ringleader had been easy enough, but knocking out five of his teeth in the middle of his obnoxious “lecture” was even easier.

Wolf remained unflinching when the body hit the floor, the silence that followed the sickening crack was deafening enough to hear the pearly molars clattering across the tiled floor.  
When he walked into his classroom, Wolf was acutely aware of all the people in the room, as well as the other six delinquents, pissing their panties. He knew he was safe for the remainder of his school year, but “safe” was not the game he liked to play.

The rest of the day was a hunting game.

Unbeknownst to them, Wolf Keum did not spare people.  
He was a natural predator, and he enjoyed every moment of the chase. He stalked, waited and pounced whenever the opportunity arose, and this time he didn’t stop swinging until he could mop the floor with their blood.  
When the last bell rung, he had made his way through the list three separate times. He relished in their wide-eyed terror, enjoying each time his bruised knuckles connected with an already-askew nose, blood seeping through the bandages- savoring feeling of the old reign crumbling under his cruel pursuit.

Rumors spread like wildfire, and soon everyone knew that Wolf Keum had hung seven of the strongest Ganghak seniors up to dry… Thrice.

He was keenly aware that this was why people often avoided him, but he was indifferent. The natural order of things had been set straight, and he was satisfied with keeping insects under his heel no matter how they begged, pleaded, or kissed his ass.

This is the reason why, when you appeared at Wolf Keum’s side for the very first time, every student at Ganghak High school flew into chaotic disarray.

The girls of Ganghak sat with their white knuckles pressed harshly against their lips, some praying for your safety while others silently cheer you on from the sidelines- also occasionally stopping to make sure they had a first aid kit nearby.

The boys couldn’t believe their eyes when a girl came strolling into the male wing of the school, a small pink plastic bag in hand. They became even further bewildered when you had parted your lips, blush dusting your cheeks, and dared to ask for audience with Ganghak High School’s wild card, Wolf Keum.

Wolf wasn’t as surprised by your appearance as he was entertained. He had recognized your uniform from the night before, but he didn’t think you would seek him out, let alone attempt to thank him.

Especially because it wasn’t his intention to help you.

Still, fate had dealt him his hand. He watched your form, bowed at the waist and offering up a single packaged cream puff.

He spent little time wondering how you knew his preferred snack down to the brand, and instead observed how strangely steady your hands were.  
From his seat he saw your still form, showing none of the tremors he was used to seeing from men twice your height and build in his presence. His eyes flickered back over to you.

It was impossible that you didn’t know of him, since you had so endearingly called him “Wolfy” the night before. And yet you had voluntarily walked into his den, finding not only him, but the some of the most intimidating students in Ganghak as well.

Did you not realize how absolutely _fucked_ you were if he gave the word?

“Yo.”

You looked up at him, and Wolf met your stare with his own blasé gaze.

He crossed one leg over the other and leaned in close enough to see his own reflection in your eyes.

“What is this?”

Wolf hears you gulp, and watches your eyelashes flutter as you stutter for an answer.

“S-sorry, I hope you don’t think it’s weird. A wrapper fell out of your pocket yesterday after… You know…” You trailed off, and your eyes darted about, cheeks darkening.

While you were conflicted about admitting that Wolf had saved you in front of his followers, Wolf was silently wrapping his mind around why you had stuttered when you spoke.

In the meanwhile, all of Wolf Keum’s lackeys allowed their thoughts to wander. All of them exchanged incredulous, bug-eyed glances at the idea that Wolf Keum had somehow gotten busy yesterday after kicking the shit out of the Hyeongshin kids.

“I just wanted to see you again.”

Wolf felt the heat emanating from your face, saw your eyes darting skyward, down at the floor, anywhere and everywhere but at him.

He leaned back.

_See him again?_

A coy smile played on his lips; his eyes still upturned with delight. It wasn’t as if he had a shortage of shuttles at his beck and heed, but there was something so damn absurd about someone waiting on him of their own accord- something so _fucking hilarious_ about someone seeking him out and bearing their defenseless, gullible mug to him of their own volition, and for some blasphemous reason, he _liked_ it.

He plucked the pastry from your fingers and allowed electricity to spark where his skin made contact with yours. He watched, pleased, as you startle and bounce back up from your bowed position, eyes glimmering, cheeks pink and nerves frazzled.

Wolf let a lascivious smirk cross his lips and peered at you through his bottom lashes, knowing exactly what it was you came here for.

“...I’ll enjoy it.”

Your face broke into a wide grin, heat climbing up to your ears and seeping into the back of your neck. 

“Thank you! I really hope you do!” You bow again and scamper off, throwing back one last glance at Wolf before escaping from his den, unscathed.  
He watches as you vanish behind the door; the cream puff wrapper crinkled quietly, seeming a lot smaller in his hand than yours.

Wolf Keum was not known for tolerating nuisances or humoring outlandish requests, he knew this just as well as the several gape-mouthed fuckers at his side. But true to his capricious nature, he was an individual heavily swayed by his instincts. And right now, the buzz in his fingertips where he brushed your skin stirred an endless abyss in his gut, strumming his wild and impulsive heart- demanding more, needing _more._

You would be back. He _knew_ it.

The hunt was on.


	3. The ostentatious, her

You did not appear again the next day.

Wolf Keum had not been waiting for you to present yourself. He made sure to remind himself of that.

Yet, the endless chatter of the “girl looking for Wolf Keum” going around Ganghak was grating on his nerves and disallowed him to purge you from his mind.

As someone his classmates could barely bring themselves to look at, he was an awful popular point of contention. You had made a bigger mess than you could imagine.

“I’m telling you, she’s _way_ too cute for him. I’ve seen her working at the flower shop by the underpass, and I don’t think she could be interested in him like _that_ at all, ever. Too bad for him.”

As one of the strongest members of Yeongdeungpo, Wolf Keum’s personal business was always made public business in a matter of days, or in this case, hours.  
He had first looked upon this with irrational contempt, wondering why his name belonged in anybody’s mouth if they could barely utter a syllable in his presence. After a while, he realized that rumors, while spoken about for the sake of entertainment, could also serve to emphasize his power without much effort on his part.

It wasn’t much different now, though Wolf had to admit he had never been jabbed in the pride regarding his romantic life before. He had no idea it existed until now.  
It stirred his temper more than dumbfucks shit-talking his fights, and he reasoned that his irritability stemmed from the fact that these slobs would talk about just about anything. Still, he couldn’t settle things like he did back then. Not while he was under Donald Na’s system. It wasn’t as effective than beating the living shit out of anyone who looked at him funny, but it did allow time for his bruised knuckles to heal before the next beatdown.

His friend was quick to snatch the collar of the offender.

“What the hell did you say about Wolf? What do you know? Do I need to knock out your teeth so you think twice before yammering?”

The smaller student squirmed in the iron grip, sweating bullets and eyes darting about to find aid from his friends.

“I- I didn’t mean to! I mean, I wasn’t talking about Wolf Keum, the girl, she-”

“You weren’t talking about Wolf Keum?”

Wolf watched out of the corner of his eye, hands in his pockets, as the student was nearly hoisted from the floor from the collar.

“Who the hell were you talking about then? Geum Sa-Wol? You watch that shit, loser?”*

As the student became a blubbering mess, Wolf swept his eyes over the crowd in the hallway. All eyes were diverted. It was deafeningly silent, a silence that Wolf Keum craved for two reasons. One, it meant he could finally have a few goddamn seconds of peace without _her_ face bouncing around in his head; and two, it meant that although students refused to look up, they were still very much listening.

“Hey man.”

Wolf placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, and he could feel the trembling of the other student through his arm.

“Don’t sweat it.”

The smaller kid was set down, and Wolf had to keep himself from snarking at his pale face and wide eyes. Instead, he turned his chin up and offered a sickening smile, his glasses catching the gleam of the fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling.

“I can’t waste time on shit-mouthed fuckers who can’t get the facts straight.”

Wolf reached out to scornfully dust off his wrinkled jacket, enjoying each flinch he induced when his hand landed too harshly or too quickly.  
He lowered his voice to a dangerous octave, a surge of adrenaline pumping through his veins when he felt the room drop ten degrees in response.

“Her and I have nothing to do with each other, and definitely _nothing_ to do with you. It’s best for us to keep it like that for your sake, don’t you think?”

He lowered his gaze to glower at the shorter student, who, trembling, swallowed thickly and nodded stiffly under his suffocating presence.  
Wolf remained rooted to the floor, asserting his pressure for a few more long seconds for good measure before giving him a shove. 

“Now _fuck_ off.”

He watched as the student took off, tripping over the air in his haste and plummeting into the unforgiving tiled floors with a _splat._

Wolf regarded him with a derisive glance and moved to open the door to his classroom, and though it was someone else on the floor, all eyes were on him.  
He always reveled in the high of scaring someone shitless when he had an audience. Their deafening silence represented their resounding submission to him, but perhaps his most favorite part of all was the contrast of atmosphere immediately before and after he entered another room.  
The collective drop of shoulders, the perfectly synchronized sighs of relief and immediate whispers of disbelief flooded Wolf Keum with euphoria. It reminded him that his mere presence was enough to instill fear into the hearts of his peers, strong enough to demand subservience, and a testament to his self-made reputation.

It was exactly what he needed now after a long day of conflicting thoughts, which he shamefully had to admit, had made him restless.  
When he slid the door to his classroom open, he could almost _hear_ the eyes moving from his back to his desk.

In all his years of accruing bloody knuckles and broken noses, he had never _once_ been as stunned as he was in this one soundless and stagnant moment.  
A crowd had formed around his table, busybodies nosing about and phone cameras shuttering. The moment they heard the door fling open they scattered like roaches, throwing themselves back into their seats and trying hard to seem occupied as to not incur the wrath of Wolf Keum.

Piled high on his desk was an amalgamation of pinks and reds, wrapped delicacies placed upon gift boxes placed upon packages tied to little pink balloons. Wolf took this all in with as straight a face as he could muster, knowing everyone was more sensitive to his presence now than ever before. This included of course, eyebrows arching upwards and his jaw becoming slack.

No one could blame Wolf Keum for his reaction. They had in fact, reacted in the same exact manner- perhaps to a more notable extent.  
Even for a normal person, a love letter or a small baked treat would suffice as a proclamation of love. But for Wolf Keum, the gifts spread across his desk in a flashy show of affection were tenfold more surprising.  
It was incomprehensible to anyone that Wolf, the brute occupied with street violence and gang activity, would ever entertain the idea of liking someone, and even moreso shocking that someone could see past their terror and admire him- especially in such an ostentatious fashion.

This revelation was of course, made much more interesting because of the blatant denial that he had anything to do with a girl prior.  
Wolf knew this more than anyone and gathered his wits to press onward, feeling something strangely similar to adrenaline pulsing through his body and reddening his ears.

“W-Wolf…” His friend stuttered, raising a weak finger to point at the desk. “…What is that?”

Wolf skulked into the classroom, hands deep in his pockets and a snarl on his lips. He had an idea, but couldn’t formulate it into words. He settled for the next best thing.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know, dimwit? I’m looking now.”

“O-oh. Right.”

He approached the table with caution, cringing at the vivid colors and grotesque amount of home baked pastries and sweets. There was an assortment of red cosmos, pink tulips and white daises sitting upon everything, tied together neatly with a thick shiny ribbon pinning down a notecard.

Wolf considered knocking everything over in a fit of confused rage. He considered ordering his lackey to burn it in the incinerator. He considered many things, yet curiosity ate him alive and stopped him from uttering a single word.

He had thought about her all day, damn it all if denying it did anything.  
She had a strange manner to her that he couldn’t shake and he was enraged when she failed to show up again after gaining his attention. Though no, it hadn’t been directed at her- which was what infuriated him.  
For the first time in years, Wolf Keum had been disappointed in himself, perhaps for not being interesting enough to earn another visit, or strong enough to impress her beyond a single local market creampuff.

When she didn’t show up again as he had anticipated, he was overtaken by pesky attempts to explain it. He guessed she was shy, he guessed she was nervous, he guessed she came to her senses, he had guessed and guessed until it drove him up the wall and back down again.  
But even with his reputation and credibility on the line, even while being documented by a sea of students who undoubtedly would share this with friends later- now that just a breath of her existence was in front of him, he _had_ to know- was she back after all?  
The adrenaline had now inched its way across his body and set his heart and mind aflame, temperatures soaring and burning their way across his cheeks.

“Bro, I can toss it for you-”

“Shut up for a second.”

Wolf ignored the other man, who wisely shut his trap. He was preoccupied with keeping his hand steady as he stiffly reached out for the notecard, a gleam overtaking his glasses. The gold foil note looked strangely out of place in his calloused and bandaged hands, but the name on the notecard was undoubtedly his.

_Dear Wolf Keum,  
Yay!! You found my gifts!!  
I hope you can enjoy these snacks with all of your funny friends.  
The flowers are for you though. I picked them from the florist shop I work at myself.  
I hope you like them! (PS: Put them in carrot juice to make them last longer!)  
(PPS: or don’t… my boss tells me not to do that in the shop…)_

He lowered the card and looked up with a deadpan glower, all the students who had been peering over their shoulders flinched and look back to the front.

He didn’t know what to feel. Wolf Keum was instinctively mad at everything.  
If the television didn’t work, he was mad. If he had forgotten an umbrella in the rain, he’d be mad and take someone else’s and still be mad. Any slight inconvenience to Wolf Keum was followed by inevitable punishment, and though he was inconvenienced now more than ever with your gifts tarnishing his title in both Ganghak High and the Union, in this moment he felt nothing more than exasperation.

A familiar pipsqueak shitstain voice sounded from the door.

“Woah, she really _does_ like you! How?”

Wolf Keum grit his teeth and felt his hands ball into tight fists at his side, confusion igniting once again to erupt into a bitter and wild, barely contained rage. He was Wolf Keum. Why did he care? Why did he _care_ what a shitty bread shuttle had to say?

He felt his temper raise to lick at the edges of his vision, something of the sort of beast he was used to encountering, but driven by something larger and much more foreign than he was used to. What was it that he, Wolf Keum, was so unfamiliar with? So unable to control?

A creep of red colored his neck, a dash ran across his face, and then he knew at once. 

The amount of effort it took for him to sustain regular breathing was _fucking bullshit._ The way his fists were ready to swing yet ever trembling was _fucking. Bullshit._

To onlookers, this Wolf Keum was the same as the Wolf Keum all the days before, face red with irritation, quaking fists itching for a brawl. He was thankful of this, but at the same time hated how he had to hide behind his title instead of living up to it.

Wolf Keum was insecure.

“You little bitch! I’ll rip out your tongue!” 

A figure lunged at the smaller boy in the periphery of Wolf's vision, yet he paid it no mind. There was no satisfaction that came from the dull sound of crying and a fists cracking against a nose. Wolf settled into his chair with an aura that filled the room with a cold draft.

With his mood soured, everyone was suddenly reminded that Wolf Keum with gifts on his desk was in fact, still Wolf Keum.

The silence that surrounded the noisy beating did nothing to ease the atmosphere as the pink balloon bobbed softly in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*Geum Sa-Wol is the heroine of an old Korean drama popular with middle-aged housewives)


	4. The Presumptuous, Them.

Yeongduengpo was a large district, imposing in it’s monotony. Steely-gazed windows and sky-high buildings plagued the skies, obscuring the sun and taking place of the clouds.

Perhaps to an outsider, who may perceive all the algae-covered brick houses and leaky underpasses as identical, it may even be confusing.  
But to the residents of Yeongduengpo who listen closely to the whistle of each wind tunnel, who grew up slipping their hands over the cracks of the local bakery window, who memorized the stains of each concrete tile leading to the arcade, Yeongduengpo was just an intricate system of secret passages and alleyway shortcuts.

Some areas were home to happy memories, a soccer field, a shopping strip, the street where you first learned how to ride your bike, and learned that there was a huge downward slope just past the stoplight.

Others avenues were oozing with shadows, a brief whisper here and there, “Don’t, that’s where _they_ are.”   
Recollections of a first, second, and if unlucky—a third beating from high school thugs. Pickpocket corner, a hand on your shoulder like a gun pointed at your temple. “You remember your friend, right?”

To anyone who had lived in Yeongduengpo for their entire lives, the neighborhood was a map of their memories, an intricate web of do’s and don’ts that intermingled like sweet milk into a dark coffee. As familiar as their childhood, just as large as the palm of their hands.

This small yet insurmountable district thrummed a heartbeat within it, pumping through it’s chambers smog, smoke, and rumors. A brief hiss of a city train slowing to a stop, a wary gaze thrown into a wayward shadow, peering for an insatiable darkness.

This how rumors spread, sparking embers at bus stops and blazing it’s way across the city through texts and word of mouth in a matter of days. 

Whispers of a certain dastardly Wolf Keum, one of Yeongduengpo’s most familiar names, and a shiny-eyed girl with lavish gifts overcame the streets, taking over the Shuttle Patch blog in an all-new post: “Is Wolf Keum Getting Too Comfortable?”

The heartbeat of the district became strong, alive and stirring with the commotion brought upon by a girl and her treacherous, Wolf Keum.

The news elicited varying emotions, though two of the most prominent were complete awe or poorly disguised fascination, caught on a censored cell phone camera interview for the Shuttle Patch blog.

“Wolf Keum? Ah man, there’s no way he would ever score a girl. But if he did…”

“That guy, a girlfriend? Is he even taking his spot in the Union seriously?”

“He’s a solid fighter, but anyone can be taken down when distracted.”

In a smaller room, tucked away into a quiet corner of a high school, a meeting begins.

“Fuck. That little brat.”

Red gelled hair shines in the luminous glow of fluorescent lightbulbs, and he shifts, crossing one leg across the other.   
An expensive sneaker bobs impatiently in the air, cheap mosaic tile squeaking underfoot the other.  
His fingers play at the cigarette in his hand, unlit and untouched.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” He sneers, eyes latched onto the phone presented to him. He grows angrier at each successive image, brows furrowing and jaw tensing.

“Does he really think he can afford to let his guard down now? That motherfucker…”

A devious look comes across his eyes, mouth splitting into a toothy smile fit for a ravenous shark. He recalls the shame of bowing to Donald Na, recalls the manner in which Wolf gazed upon him like a pest.

“What do you think, Grape?”

A pair of dark eyes meet his. A bruise rings around Grape’s left socket and leaves a red and purple stain upon pale skin, evidence of Wolf Keum’s short temper and quick violence, but this does not deter the pride in his gaze.

“The fucker won’t even see it coming.” He says this resolutely, but with a shake in his voice, just as all those who speak of Wolf have.  
It is understandable, so Forrest Lee says nothing of it. Instead, he brushes away the phone and threads his hands together, knuckles still bandaged tightly from his last victory.  
Forrest sees the orange of dusk dripping into a dark horizon and begins to manifest a sinister plot.

It is wrath that Forrest possesses, clutches onto as a lifeline. But the way he refuses to lose face a second time, the anger in him curdling into something far unrecognizable as rage, becomes far more familiar as pride.

A bruised ego, and a plan to recover from the fall.

These are all things that Wolf Keum has fortified against, as a man who holds his own pride above all else, familiar with its sting and its gold-lined embrace.  
With pride comes the necessity for wealth and status, all embodied in Wolf’s latest designer clothing and hefty payoff from the Union.   
However, a man as acquainted with pride’s old habits as Wolf knew that luxury could ooze from his pores, spill from the heavens upon him—and it would mean nothing if he had no title to defend.

Hazel eyes watch the interviews on the Shuttle Patch with terrifying composure, purple hair standing stark against the orange backdrop of a sky behind him. His men shuffle about behind him, the chill of the rooftop breeze stirring them from stagnation, stirring them from peace.

A certain scent carried in the air, the scent of a storm brewing deep in the abyss.

Wolf hears the sounds of the city beneath him, pulsing like a living thing as cold as ice. He ponders upon the new information on him from the Shuttle Patch, upon his reputation and all he holds dear to him.

The beast keens, his unrelenting ego and insatiable yearning for reverence and fear will never, has never, been defeated.

Wolf approaches the edge of the roof and gazes down upon the district.

He has lived in Yeongduengpo all his life. He is familiar with the changing of the stoplights, like clockwork, on every block. He has memorized every divot in the sidewalk, every broken lock and each shattered window.

Tonight, the city is no longer as familiar as the palm of his hand. It shudders with a new life, streets splitting and laying flat for a new history to be written—and Wolf swears by all he knows, he will not have his title claimed.

A knock on the rooftop door sounds. When it opens, he sees a familiar face, a friendly smile that only a fool could adorn in his presence. She’s holding a bunch of colorful nonsense again, but he doesn’t turn her away. Instead, he approaches her, allows her to place her hand upon his arm.

The city stutters with exhaust and groaning rusty benches, homes brightening as families return home and switch on the lights, light spilling from the windows like liquid gold.   
With these windows, the old city gazes upon Wolf Keum and the mysterious girl. It heaves a heavy sigh, chimney smoke exuding from pipes before it is swept away with a passing train, far into the city night.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey you guys, thanks for reading! If you enjoyed be sure to hit the kudos and leave a comment, it really helps give me motivation to write more.  
> Be sure to check out my other series with Wolf and Alex in it, "Daybreak" for Weak Hero. And remember, my requests are officially open on my tumblr! < https://xbunnybunz.tumblr.com/ > Until next time!


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